


Could It Be That We've Met?

by morghost



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Era, F/F, Fluff, Half-Sibling Incest, Merlin Ships Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morghost/pseuds/morghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate meeting between Morgana and Morgause in Sins of the Father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could It Be That We've Met?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Merlin Ships Fest 2014 - Prompt 2: Change the scene

Morgana watched the woman battle shadows in the courtyard. Each stoke was strong and certain and despite the darkness, not a step was misplaced. Morgana admired the stranger’s confidence.

Gwen shuffled behind her, readying her bed for the night. “Who is she? Why would she want to challenge Arthur?” She sounded more curious than concerned about the strange knight. “Seems as though no one’s heard of her before.”

Morgana knew she should climb in bed and will herself to sleep but she couldn’t leave her window. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Morgause. “I feel as if I’ve met her before.”

“Really? Where could you know her from?”

“I don’t know.”

Morgause paused her practice and glanced up to Morgana’s candle-lit window. Morgana would normally have been shy at being caught staring so openly but as Morgause looked at her, a pang of excitement shot through her. She wanted to talk with the woman before she fought Arthur and now was the only time.

“My lady? Are you going to bed soon?” Gwen interrupted her thoughts. 

“Not yet,” Morgana paused. “I think I’m going to take a walk around the castle walls.” 

“Are you worried about Arthur?” 

Morgana realized she hadn’t thought of the Prince’s safety or the outcome of the fight. Only of Morgause. But concern for Arthur seemed to be what Gwen was expecting so she nodded. 

“I feel as though I’m going to dream badly of tomorrow’s challenge.” 

Gwen’s smile was sympathetic. “Would you like some company? You shouldn’t roam the castle alone.” 

“Thank you, but you are tired, Gwen. I can see it in your face. There are plenty of guards about and I’ll try not to wake you when I return. I won’t be long.” 

Gwen considered for a moment but to Morgana’s relief didn’t push it. She folded Morgana’s sheets back for her and said her goodnights before she disappeared into the antechamber that served as her quarters as of late.

Morgana stepped quietly out into the hallway. She had no trouble navigating her way through the darkness. She had spent years sneaking through the castle at night with Gwen and Arthur to raid the kitchens.

However, she underestimated Morgause’s stealth and very nearly collided with her as she rounded a corner.

Morgause stopped short and instinctively reached for her sword, hesitating to draw it only when she realized she was not being threatened.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t hear you. I – I’m the Lady Morgana,” she stammered, unsure of why she introduced herself so formally.

“I know who you are,” Morgause said coolly.

Morgana felt her face heat. Of course Morgause knew who she was. She was the prize jewel of Camelot. Uther never missed an opportunity to flaunt her in front of foreigners and feasts. Morgause had probably seen her at tournaments or heard of her through the villagers.

As she was trying to think of something else to say, Morgause spoke up again.

“You look tired.”

She wondered how Morgause could tell in the darkness.

“I haven’t been sleeping. I have nightmares,” she finished quietly.

She didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to see the familiar pity, not from Morgause. Morgause was clearly unafraid of the night and Morgana felt childish admitting her fears to her.

But pity was not what she found when she looked up again. Morgause’s dark eyes shone with understanding. The woman fumbled with something and held out an intricate bracelet.

“Take this,” she offered. “It is a healing bracelet. It will help you sleep.”

Morgana wanted to take it and cherish it, which was ridiculous, she realized, she barely knew the woman.

She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

But Morgause didn’t withdraw her hand. “Your nightmares, do they sometimes come true?”

Fear crept through Morgana. She wanted to deny it and any accusations of magic. If Uther ever found out, she would be locked in the dungeons at the least. But Morgause clearly knew more about her than she did herself, and she found she couldn’t lie to her.

“Yes,” she murmured.

Morgause stepped closer and strong, calloused fingers closed gently around her wrist, lifting it. Her skin remembered too well the bite of shackles and she flinched when she felt metal slide over her wrist. But instead of cold, sharp iron, Morgause’s bracelet was warm and smooth, already comfortable as if she’d worn it for years.

Morgause noticed her flinch and cupped her face with her other hand. “What has he done to you?”

Morgana looked away. Anger and frustration caused tears to sting her eyes and she did not want Morgause to see her cry.

“He is cruel and unfair. He murders innocent people.”

Morgause’s thumb stroked her cheek almost absently and Morgana found herself comforted by the touch.

“Has he hurt you?” Morgause asked.

“Mostly with words, but when I argue back,” Morgana took a breath but didn’t continue.

“He has struck you.” Morgause’s voice was now deeper, hardened with mounting anger.

Morgana shook her head. “Not outright. But I have been shaken, shoved, even throttled once, and chained in the dungeon like a criminal. For trying to protect an innocent man.”

She nearly spat the last few words out in anger. For a second Morgause said nothing, just stared at her with that intense gaze and Morgana was afraid she had said too much. But then Morgause spoke again.

“I can see he has tried but he has not taken your spirit,” she said with a touch of pride. “I can make him pay for all that he’s done. Would you like that, Morgana?”

Morgana met her gaze, somewhat distracted by the way her name sounded on Morgause’s voice. It was dark and smooth and she wanted to hear it more.

“I would,” she said.

Morgause’s smile was wicked. “Good. I will not let him harm you again.”

The fierce protectiveness in her voice surprised Morgana. But it surprised her more to realize she liked it. Morgana wanted to be protected. Not out of duty as if she were an expensive item to be guarded, but as a person. She’d only known Morgause for half a day, but she could see in the woman’s hardened face and the way her hand held Morgana’s chin, tender but reassuring, that Morgause saw her not as a the Lady Morgana, royal ward of Camelot. She saw her as Morgana, an angry, scared, parentless girl that needed someone to trust. Morgana sensed that Morgause understood something about her that maybe she didn’t quite know yet herself. There was a connection to her that Morgana couldn’t convince herself to ignore.

“Could it be that we’ve met somewhere before?” she asked.

Morgause shook her head. “No, but I’m glad we have met now.”

Morgana smiled. Morgause’s presence warmed her and without thinking, she leaned forward and closed the already short distance to press their lips together. It was a soft, hesitated touch. But Morgause responded eagerly and returned the kiss, pulling Morgana closer to her. Morgana allowed herself be held and tasted. It felt natural, as if it were not the first, but the hundredth time they’d kissed.

When they finally parted, Morgana buried her face in the curve of Morgause’s neck and sighed when Morgause toyed with the ends of her midnight hair.

“Please win tomorrow,” she murmured. “I feel as though I would lose something very important if Arthur defeated you.”

“I do not intend to be defeated,” Morgause reassured her.

Guilt rose in Morgana’s chest at the thought of Arthur. “It is much to ask, I know, but would you spare Arthur’s life? He has a good heart, and he is like a brother to me.”

Morgause stiffened slightly at “brother” and Morgana feared she would refuse. The challenge had been to the death after all.

“For you, I will not kill the prince.”

Morgana thanked her with another long kiss. She wanted to keep tasting Morgause, but she knew they had been standing too long and a patrol guard would be around soon.

She broke away and stepped back, looking down at the bracelet snug on her wrist.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Morgause’s gaze was no longer fierce and intimidating. It had been replaced with something close to adoration.

“You deserve to be treated like a queen, Morgana. I would spend all night showing you, if you did not have that pretty maid in your chambers.” Morgause flashed a tiny smirk that made Morgana blush.

Again, Morgana wondered how Morgause knew so much, but decided to save that question for another time.

“Will I see you after the challenge?” she asked, changing the topic.

“You can see me whenever you like. I will teach you the words to whisper should you ever need me.”

Morgana was about to ask what she meant when footsteps echoed through the stone hallway, erasing the thought from her mind. Morgause instinctively reached for her sword again. Morgana rested her hand over Morgause’s and kissed her lightly.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered and turned to walk back the way she came.

In the morning, Gwen commented on how well rested she looked and Morgana realized she had slept through the night for the first time in weeks.

When it came time for Arthur to face Morgause, it may have looked to Gwen, Uther, and the rest of Camelot that Morgana’s gasps of concern were aimed at the beloved Prince, but the ornate bracelet on her wrist suggested otherwise.


End file.
